#9

by Devante’ Crowell

            My life consists of two things: eating and hunting. In a place like this that’s really all you get to do. The first thing I said to myself when I got out of high school was that I’d get out of this city. But here I am. Home sweet fucking home. Right now I kinda wish that was different.

My gun is cold against my skin and I’m soaked from head to toe in rainwater. Smells like fucking sewage if you ask me. Then again, it’s probably the whole city I smell. Fucking factories.

            “Any day now,” I say. This bastard’s taking too long. My job is simple. I find my guy and put a few rounds of lead in his chest. Fucked up, but it gets the bills paid. I guess you can say I’m a hit man. Scratch that. Bounty hunter.

            He’s coming out of the office now.

            “Finally.”

I stand up from my perch on a roof across the street and flip my revolver to the left, counting the bullets in each chamber. Nine. Gun’s about as long as half of my forearm with a barrel the size of a fist. A really big fist. Eyes closed I pray.

“My sins are my own to carry. A burden only you can relieve. Forgive me.” And the night begins.

            Gun in hand, I run through the darkness; roof to roof feeling the cold rain beat down on me. My target is in a blue car coming up to a stoplight below me. I stop to catch my breath and wait for him to move again. Can’t get too close. Not yet.

            Green.

            The car moves and I take a deep breath.

Let’s go to work, I say in my head. I burst into a sprint across the rooftop. The car is turning left. Right in front of me. I leap from the building, flipping to the side with my gun pointing down at the car. Three shots and two seconds later I feel myself smashing through a window. I feel glass slice through my skin as I hit the floor.

            ‘Get up!’

 I get up and brush the shards off of my body. A few cuts aren’t about to slow me down.

            ‘Go!’  It’s the voice again. I don’t know who the hell it is. Some chick. She always seems to get me out of tight situations, so I’m not about to start complaining.

            I jump out of the window.

            “Shit,” I say.

 SMG rounds are spitting at me. Kinda hard to tell which gun is gonna kill me and where the bullets are coming from, considering the rain, so I don’t try to dodge them. I got six shots left, three men to kill, and a car to blow up. I land on top of the car and jump back into the air right away. One shot and one of the shooters has a hollow point straight through his head. Sucks to be him.

            Another shot through another guy’s chest. I land and crouch behind a car across the street. Four more rounds left and I can already hear sirens. Bullets are pouring toward me like the rain soaking the concrete.

This fucker’s making my job a lot harder than it should be, I think to myself. I take a deep breath. Heat leaves my body and I can see my breath in the air. I get on top of the car I’m hiding behind and sprint toward the last grunt. A bullet rips a chunk out of my left arm. I spin and shake off the pain of the burning metal as my arm goes cold. I jump into the air and point my gun at the last man’s head.

            “Bitch,” I say as his eyes widen. My bullet collides with his skull and his body drops as I land. Three bullets left. The target hasn’t even tried to run. Dumb move on his part. I jump onto the hood of the target’s car and see a girl in the front seat. My heart slows and my body goes cold as a familiar face brings me out of my trance.

            “Syd?” I say as she loads a shotgun and points it at me. I think of the last time I saw her. Nine months ago. She pulls the trigger and I feel myself flying backward through the air with two burning holes in my stomach. I hit something hard and my spine snaps. Everything fades to black.

Micah

            Alarm is going off. I should probably get up. I open my eyes to sunlight and it hurts my head.

            “Fuck,” I say pulling my blankets back over my face.

Get up, I think, knowing I’m too fucked up to do anything.

            My last mission wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. There were a lot more people than I was told which still kinda pisses me off. You would think that the bastards sending you on a job would get the info right. Fucking pansies. I sit up and feel a pain in my rib. Still sore. Lucky it wasn’t broken when I got in.

            Alarm’s still on. I should probably turn it off before the landlord flips another bitch. The walls are way too thin in this shit hole. I hit the off button and just as I do he comes banging on the door.

            “Micah! Damn it! Wake your lazy ass up and turn that alarm off!” he yells.

            I flip him off, knowing he can’t see through the door. I sit on the edge of the bed and rest my head in my hands.

            ‘Why do you keep doing this to yourself Micah?’ the voice says.

            “Honestly, I don’t know,” I say, knowing that she won’t respond. She’s been in my head for a while. Ever since Sydney left. I thought it was Syd for a while, but this voice is different.

            I get up and walk to the window. Sun’s out today. Not anything special ‘cause it’s not like it makes this city look any prettier. Just lets you see how fucked up it is. All the bullshit the government and rich people put out on a silver platter just so they can watch the dogs they call people lick it clean. It’s fucking pitiful. All the mugging, all the corrupt bullshit concealed until the light comes on. This is why I prefer the night. Keeps me from realizing how much my life here sucks. Guess I gotta be thankful I’m alive though, right?

            I can hear my phone buzzing on my dresser. Probably another job. I walk over and pick it up. A text message gives me a name, a time, and an address. Jeremy Mitchell, 7:43 p.m. on Saturday. That’s two days away. 2211 Chambers street is the address, in Manhattan. Hell of a job. For forty hundred credits I’m not saying no. I send a message back, saying that I’ll be there and then call Sam.

            “Hello?” she says.

            “Sammy, you busy?”

            “Ummm… Yeah. Some of us have actual jobs you know.”

Bitch, I think to myself and smile. That’s what I like about her.

            “Shut the hell up, Sam. I’m coming in today.”

            She sighs. “Micah, I want to see you, but I’m really busy. I have to draw up four different tats and then come up with the one that you still want.”

            “I had the dream again Sam.”

            She’s silent.

            “You there?” I ask.

            “Okay. I’ll see you when you get here,” she says and then hangs up the phone.

            Our relationship is kinda complicated. She helps me. Probably in more ways than one, but let’s not get into that. I walk to the bathroom and turn on the hot water. Hopefully it can get the soreness out before I go and see Sam.

I step into the shower and feel the water slide down my skin, soaking the scars and tattoos that cover my body. There’re four. One is the brand of an assassin. When you become a bounty hunter you have to get it. It’s a skull with a scythe and two guns behind it. That one’s on my back. The second one is a hawk going from the bottom of my rib to my waist. The next one is a black dragon, its head starting on my hand, wrapping around my arm, going all the way up to the side of my neck. That one hurt like a bitch. The last one is on my chest. Sydney’s name. That one hurt even more. I close my eyes and let the hot water fall onto my face.

Sydney

            Trinity always tells me that there’s something that I have to do. I really don’t know what she’s talking about. I thought all of this would end after I left, but here I am again. New York City.  I guess it feels good to be back home. I start to walk down the street toward Central Park. It used to be beautiful. Green everywhere. Now there’s billboards, stores and even a factory in the middle of it. All the government’s doing. This is what pisses Micah off. Micah… Trinity says he’s part of it. The thing I have to do.  She says he’s the key to it all. I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

            I walk onto a path that leads out of the park and into a back alley. Probably not the safest thing to do in this city, but Trinity always lets me know when I’m about to be in danger. I walk and find myself on 10^th street.

            ‘We’re close,’ Trinity says.

            I walk further down 10^th and then stop in front of a rugged looking building. Most of the buildings in the city look like this, but it seems to stand out. Probably because I have to go inside.

            “This the one?” I ask Trinity.

            No response. That means yes. I’ve learned how to work with her, not that she gives me much of a choice. She helps though, and that’s always a good thing. I walk into the building. It’s dark. I pull out my knife. A gun would be too loud and I really don’t want to draw attention to myself.

            ‘Stairs,’ Trinity says.

            I look to my right and see the stairs.

            ‘He’s in the third room on the left side. There are more people here.’

            “You didn’t say that there’d be more people,” I say, a little irritated.

            She doesn’t answer.

She never tells me everything. Just lets me know a few details. She can be such a bitch sometimes.

            I walk up the stairs, creeping to the door. I can hear people laughing in another room down the hall. I open the door slowly and see the one I’m supposed to find. He’s on the couch watching TV. I walk to the back of the couch and then jump over it, landing on his lap. I cover his mouth and drive the knife into his heart, twisting it and watching his body go limp.

            “What the fuck!” someone yells.

            One of the men from the other room sees me.

             ‘Shit!’  I think, springing off of the couch.

             He takes out a gun and shoots at me.

‘There’s a window on your right,’ Trinity says.

            I run to the window and dive forward, crossing my arms in front of my head as I burst through the glass. Here I am again. Running away. I guess it feels good to be back at home.

Micah

            “Micah! Turn off that damn water! You’ve been in there for an hour!” I hear the landlord yell as he bangs on my door.

            I sigh.

That’s it. I’m gonna fucking shoot him, I think as I turn the water off.

            “Thank God! I thought you were going to drown whole complex!” he yells.

            I walk to my dresser and put my hand on my gun.

            ‘Don’t.’

            I look at the door. That little shit is lucky I have a fucking conscience. I grab some clothes and throw them on. Sam’s probably gonna be irritated. She does have a lot of work to do, and I feel kinda bad about bothering her but I felt like I needed to come to her whenever I had the dream. Sam’s sort of psychic. It kinda freaks me out, but it helps. I grab my phone. One message and two missed calls. Sam. I look at the text and it tells me to go into her house through the back way. I dial her number.

            “Yeah?” she says.

            “I’m on my way.”

            “About time.”

            “You’re such a bitch.”

            “Yet you keep coming back for more.”

            I laugh, hanging up the phone. I open my door and the landlord is standing right there. He’s really short. And Asian. The top of his head is probably at my chest and his accent annoys the hell out of me.

            “Who was that?” he asks.

            “What?” I say.

            “Who was that on phone? Sound like lady.”

            “What the fuck do you want, Eli?”

            “I’m just here to tell you that I need rent. It’s been month.  Now you pay!”

            “Really? You couldn’t just wait until I got downstairs like you do for everyone else?” I say, grabbing the money from my dresser and handing it to him.

            “I save you trip.” He walks away, counting the money as he goes into his room.

            I walk down the stairs and out into the street. The cold air bites at my skin. Should have put on a jacket. I go to the back alley on the side of my apartment and start to climb the drainpipe. The metal is cold against my hands as I get to the first level of the fire escape and hop onto the platform climbing the stairs and going to the roof. The view from here is pretty good. Probably the only thing I like about this place. This is the main reason I keep to the roof when I’m hunting. I look across the city. Factories are everywhere. Trails of smoke flow into the sky like tails of falling dragons.

            “Let’s watch this city burn the world,” I mumble, running toward the edge of the roof. As soon as I get a couple feet away, I jump. The cold wind whips at my face. It’s starting to snow. I land on top of the next building and keep running, gaining speed for the next jump. Sam’s shop is five blocks away. That’s about twenty houses.  Glad I’m in shape. The rooftops are getting slippery because of snow. It doesn’t really help at all. I stop on the roof of a bank to catch my breath. My phone is vibrating.

            “Yeah,” I say, breathing heavily. It’s Sam.

            “Where the hell are you?”

            “On my way.” I hang up and start running again, putting on a burst of speed.

You’re really about to do this? I ask myself.

             “Hell yeah!” I yell as I jump over Claremont Avenue, one of the busiest streets in this part of the city.

            Cars lights pass under me as I glide through the air. I land on an apartment roof and sprint toward the back of Sam’s store. I jump off of the roof and land on the fire escape platform. I slide down the drainpipe beside it and land next to the back door. I lean against the wall and try to catch my breath. The door opens and Sam comes out. She kisses me, sliding her tongue into my mouth. It’s warm. Her soft lips massage mine and surprisingly taste like strawberries. I hold her hips and pull her up against me while she wraps her arms around my neck. She pulls away slowly and looks me in my eyes.

            “Strawberry lip gloss?” I ask.

            “You like it?”

            “Tastes good.”

            We both smile. She grabs my hand and pulls me inside of the store. Most of the lights are off. We go into her office. There are pictures and drawings of the tattoos that she’s made and the ones that she will make.

            “This is what I did with yours,” she says, pulling out a sheet of paper.

            She hands it to me. I’m speechless. This is the best thing I’ve seen her draw.

            “You better like it.” She smiles. “It was hard to draw.”

I’m staring at the paper. How the fuck did she draw this? There’s a black dragon, kinda like the one I have on my arm, wrapped around two nine-millimeter pistols and two scythes. I look at her.

“Can you say something please? You’re scaring me right now,” she says.

I grab her and kiss her, holding her hips in my hands. I feel her wrap her arms around my neck as she pulls herself closer to me, massaging my tongue with hers. It tastes so good. My heart is racing. She always does this to me. She lifts my shirt off and pushes me toward one of her work tables as her fingers work their way down to my belt.  I kiss her neck, biting her so that it leaves a mark. She likes that sort of thing. She slips my pants off and I can feel her hand pulling my boxers down. She straddles me and I shudder as I slide between her thighs. The warmth feels good against my naked body and I embrace it.

She laughs.

“You’re too cute.” She says.

I hold her hips as she moves back and forth slowly at first and then speeding up, her hands sliding down my stomach touching every plate of muscle, every scar, and every tattoo. The sound of her moan drowns out every thought in my head and all I can think of and hear is her voice. I grab her breast and she holds my hand there, making me squeeze as she moves back and forth. I get up, lifting her, and carry her to the room in the back of her office. I make my way to the bed, laying her down and holding myself over her, kissing her as I slide between her legs again. Her warmth sends shivers through my body.

She digs her nails into my back as I move in and out of, making her cry out in pleasure every time. She holds my head, tugging at my hair as I move. Her moans get louder as I start to move faster. I wrap my arms around her, letting out a groan of my own. As I finish she kisses me. I lie on top of her for a second, coming to my senses.

“Damn,” I say.

She laughs. “You always surprise me, Micah.”

I roll over and lie on the bed. We’ve done this before, but right now I feel like I shouldn’t have. Something in my head is making me feel guilty.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I had that dream again, Sam.”

She scoots over and lies next to me.  

“Which one?”                       

“The one with Sydney,” I say. “The one where she kills me.”

  Sam is silent. I look at her. I can’t read her at all. I don’t ever know what she’s thinking and sometimes it scares me.

“Why would Sydney kill me?” I ask her.

She’s still silent. Sam was never very interested in Sydney. It’s not that she didn’t like her. Well… Never mind.

“She did leave you,” Sam says

“Yeah, but there must be some explanation for it. Sydney wouldn’t have left unless she had to. I know her.”

“I guess.” Sam looks away from me.

I can’t even say anything. I thought Sam would help me with this but she’s just pulling this jealousy bullshit. I hate when she does this.

“You shouldn’t think about it Micah. It’s just a dream.”

“Yeah, but it’s gotta mean something. What if she’s back?”

“Why would she come back?”

I look at her. What the fuck is wrong with her?

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“She left you, Micah. Why can’t you just get over her?”

“She’s my best fucking friend, Sam!” I yell, getting up.

“Was your best friend Micah! She was your best friend. She’s gone! You can’t change the decision she made, so stop trying to make her come back! Move on, Micah!”

I stare at her. Did she really just say that? How could she just tell me to move on? I’ve known Sydney all my life and she just wants me to move on?

“Fuck you,” I say, and grab my clothes. I put them on, walking out of the room.

She really just said that, I think. I can’t believe it. I get outside and walk down an alley leading to the street. The snow is still falling. It melts as it lands on my shoulders. The words repeat in my head and stab at me like a dagger. How could I get over her? My eyes are starting to water.

‘She’s right,’ The voice says. ‘You should try and forget her.’

“Shut the fuck up!” I yell, running into the middle of the street.

People drive by me, honking and cursing at me. Fuck them! They don’t know anything. They don’t have to do what I have to! They don’t have to face the fact that the one person that they’ve loved all their life just got up and left without even saying goodbye! I told myself I could escape this place but I’m still here. Sydney got away, but I didn’t. I’m stuck here and I’ll probably never be able to get out.

            I sprint down the busy street as tears fall down my face. There is no escape from this place. This is where I’ll die. Home sweet fucking home.

Sydney

I didn’t think I could move as fast as I did. My arms are pretty cut up, but they’ll heal. I did what I needed to do and now it’s all over. At least for the moment.

“Trinity?” I say. No response. I’m sitting on the roof of an old hotel. Why doesn’t she ever answer me when I call her?

“Trinity, I need your help.”

Again, no response. I guess I’m on my own. I get up and go to a ladder going down the side of the hotel building. I have to get into one of the rooms. It’s snowing and I can’t stay outside. I hate the cold. It makes me feel like I’m dead. Like I’m just a sack of meat walking around. A drone. I pry open a window to one of the empty rooms and climb in. It’s warm. I put a chair in front of the door so no one can come in and then lie down in the bed.

“What am I doing?” I say

‘Jeremy Mitchell,’ Trinity says.

I sit up.

“What?”

‘Your next target.’

I’m too tired to argue with her.  I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a few days. I lie down and close my eyes. Before I fall asleep a picture of Jeremy flashes in my head. Trinity’s doing this. The picture stays in my head and then I fall asleep.

‘First Jeremy, then Micah.’

Micah

 ‘Get up!’

I open my eyes. It’s six o’ clock. Can’t believe I slept all day. I have an hour and forty-three minutes. I sit up. I’m in my bed. How did I get here? I look toward my window. Clouds. Looks like it’s gonna rain tonight. Getting up, I walk to the bathroom, turning on the hot water. Didn’t have the dream, which is a relief. I peel my clothes off, and step into the shower. The numbness from the cold starts to melt away. I put my face under the water. It falls onto my head, drowning out the sound of the outside world. I stand there, letting the hot water massage my body. Someone bangs on the door.

“Micah! Turn off that damn water!” It’s the landlord again.

I turn off the water and get out, drying myself off and slipping my pants on. I grab my gun and open the door before he can knock again. I grab him by his neck, lifting him from the ground, and point my gun at his head.

“If you bang on my door one more time, I will splatter your fucking brains all over the complex,” I say, looking him dead in the eyes. Tears are starting to roll down his face. I drop him and go back into my room, slamming the door behind me. I look at the clock. 7:15. It’s a good thing I know how to get around New York. I go to my window and jump out onto the fire escape. Six blocks and I’ll be at my destination. I go to the roof and as soon as I get to the top, I break into a sprint. I jump, landing on the next building. I roll and get back up. Three more buildings and I’m only two blocks away. It’s getting dark now and the first few drops of rain have already started to fall.

I make it to a building overlooking Chambers street. The building my target’s in is across the street. The rain starts to come down harder, soaking me. My gun is cold against my skin. The rain smells like sewage. Then again, it’s probably the whole city I smell. Fucking factories. I look at my watch. 7:50.

            “Any day now,” I say. This bastard is taking too long. My job is simple. I find this guy and put a few rounds of lead in his chest.

            He’s coming out of the office now.

            “Finally.”

I stand up from my perch and flip my revolver to the left, counting the bullets in each chamber. Nine. Gun’s about as long as half of my forearm with a barrel the size of a fist. A really big fist. It was a gift from Sydney.  I close my eyes and pray.

            “My sins are my own to carry. A burden only you can relieve. Forgive me.”

And the night begins.

Sydney

            The car is at a stoplight now. It’s blue. I’m guessing Jeremy is inside. I move quickly before any of the escorts can see me. I notice the sunroof is open, which is stupid, because it’s raining. I jump from a building, grabbing the stoplight above the car, and let go, falling into the car. I jump back into the rear passenger seat, stabbing the man next to me. I twist my knife and his breath leaves his body. I take out my gun and shoot the bodyguard in the passenger seat. Silencers are beautiful inventions. The driver makes a hard left, throwing me into the window. I move my legs to the front of the car and wrap them around his neck, locking them and twisting. His neck snaps.

            I pull his body into the passenger seat and jump into the driver seat. There’re gunshots and bullets hit the car. Two hit the windshield.

            “Shit!” I say, looking behind me. The escorts must be on to me. I stop the car and look out the back. There’s a shotgun in the window. I grab it and as I turn back around, glass falls on the top of the car. I look up and then someone lands on the hood. I can’t tell who it is, because he jumps off immediately.

            ‘Stay in the car!’ Trinity says. She can tell I’m panicking. There’re gunshots everywhere and I feel bullets hitting the car. I have to get out of here! I load the shotgun and right before I open the door, someone lands on the hood. I look up.

            “Micah?” I say.

            He stares at me. His mouth moves and I know he’s saying my name.

            ‘Shoot him!’  Trinity yells.

            Without thinking, I point the shotgun at the windshield. I close my eyes and pull the trigger. I hear the glass shatter. I open my eyes and Micah’s gone. What did I just do? I sit in the car. Motionless. I’m still holding my breath. That was Micah. I come back to my senses. I’m hyperventilating.

            “Micah!” I yell, opening the door. I get out of the car and run to him. He’s lying on the ground. Motionless. I kneel next to him and lift his head.

            “No! No, no, no! Micah! Please wake up!”

            No response.

            I shake him and he still does nothing. Why won’t he wake up?

            “Micah, please! Baby, I’m here! It’s Sydney! I’m here, Micah!”

            He doesn’t move. I can hear sirens.

            ‘Run,’ Trinity says.

            I get up. Tears run down my face as I see Micah lying lifeless on the ground. I killed him. He was my best friend and I killed him. There’s a gun next to Micah’s body. I pick it up. I just killed the only person I love. The only reason I had to come back. The only reason I had to live. And now it’s gone. He’s gone. I raise the gun to my head. I feel the familiarity of the trigger and know it’s the gun that I gave Micah.

            “Drop the weapon!” I hear the police yell.

            I cock the revolver, readying it.

            “I took your life away, your love. I’ve hurt you so much and all you ever did was love me.”

            ‘Sydney, put the gun down,’ Trinity says.

            I’m done following orders.

            “Forgive me,” I say, and pull the trigger.

Sam

I walk down the hall to the lab. I’m kind of pissed off about my last project. It didn’t all go down the drain, but it was really expensive.

            “Please enter pass code,” the computer says to me.

            “Trinity forty, fifty-one,” I say. The door slides open. I walk over to one of the scientist. “Where are the video archives of the nanites for experiments Eight and Nine?”

He grabs two flash drives and hands them to me. I smile.

“Thank you.”

            I walk out of the lab and go down the hall and into the conference room. Government officials and scientists are all sitting around the table waiting on my report. I slide the flash drives into a computer and two pictures pop onto the screen. Sydney and Micah. Experiments Eight and Nine.

            “If you could all move your attention to the screen at the front of the room please,” I say. “I’d like to get started.” They turn to the screen. “These are the two subjects that were chosen for the nanite testing, which proved to be very successful.”

            “Both of your test subjects are dead. How does this prove them to be successful?”

            I’m ready for this question.

“The subjects are both dead, but the assignments they were given were all completed. The nanites have controlled a large portion of their thoughts ultimately making them a walking weapon. Or in other words, a drone.”

They’re under my thumb now.

Reel them in, Sam, I say in my head.

            “This experiment is not perfect but I can gaurentee that within a few months, it will be. Pretty soon you will be able to purchase the nanites and inject them into a subject of your choosing, creating your own personal drone.” I smile. They’re mine now.

            “I thank you for your time gentlemen, but I have to get back to my lab and run some more tests. My assistant will give you the information you need to purchase the nanites and the information about when we will be releasing them,” I say, and leave the room.

            I walk down the hall back into the lab. A perfect presentation. I go to my desk and take a piece of paper out of my pocket. It’s the tattoo I drew for Micah. I pin it to my bulletin board.

“My fallen dragon,” I say with a smile.

“Number Nine.”